


Choked Desire

by amyfortuna



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Breathplay, M/M, Masturbation, Rough Oral Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Sibling Incest, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-03 15:24:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6615700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caranthir imagines Maedhros on his knees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choked Desire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maitimiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maitimiel/gifts).



The house was quiet. 

Even the few servants had gone early to their homes not far away, seeing as how only one of their lords was actually in residence. Caranthir preferred it this way, really. He ate dinner alone by the light of a single lamp, then, carrying the lamp with him, changed from his clothes into a dressing gown, and sat down in his bedroom to do some reading. 

His mother had left some years before, unable to stand Fëanor's ever more radical opinions on the Valar. The few years before she departed, just before the twins came of age, had been fraught with tension. Arguments crackled in the air all the time. Her departure brought peace to the house, but also left it bereft of a mother's care. The twins were away on a long visit with her now. 

Celegorm was off on the hunt, and would no doubt return in a few days with his prizes. Maedhros and Maglor were in Tirion, Maglor giving a series of performances, Maedhros finishing up another scholarly work and no doubt flirting with everything that crossed his path. Curufin, along with his wife and young Celebrimbor, had accompanied his father on a long trek into the north of Aman. It could be up to a year before they would return. 

Caranthir let the book fall from his hand, less interested in reading than he thought he would be. The idea of Maedhros flirting, tossing his long hair over one shoulder, winking at whoever he was trying to charm, smiles and light laughter falling like visual and auditory kisses from his mouth, had stirred him, and he could not focus on his book while Maedhros' mouth lingered in his thoughts. He palmed his cock through his robe, then pushed it aside, and began to stroke himself. 

Maedhros was kneeling on the floor in front of him, gazing up at him with wide eyes and a beseeching smile, the kind that won men and women, the oldest of the Elves and his own agemates alike, to do whatever he wished of them. Caranthir knew how fatal that smile was, how Maedhros could so easily get him to do anything he wanted with soft words, a flutter of his eyelashes, and that look. 

"...Let me suck you," Maedhros said, running his palms up Caranthir's thighs. 

Caranthir pulled a small bottle of oil from the drawer of the table beside his chair, spilled a little of it into his hand, then tightened his grip on himself and continued stroking, unhurried. In his imagination the red spill of his brother's hair was draped over his legs, teasing and tickling him softly as Maedhros bent forward to take him in his mouth. 

"Please," Caranthir heard himself whisper into the darkness just outside of the lamplight. Maedhros took him in, lapping at him with a clever tongue, sucking at the head of his cock until he could not help but cry out, "Maitimo!" 

Maedhros drew back then for a moment, giving him that loving smile once more. Caranthir could feel his face begin to heat up from want, and knew he would be as red as Maedhros' hair soon enough. 

"I want to put my cock down your throat, brother," Caranthir whispered roughly into the darkness, voice gone husky from desire. Maedhros smiled that smile and fluttered his eyelashes as though he'd been told he was going to receive a treat he'd been waiting for. 

"I'd love that," he answered, and bent once more to take Caranthir's cock into his mouth, quickly sliding it in and out, getting it properly slick with saliva. Maedhros' head, bobbing in his lap, was a sight that almost brought Caranthir to orgasm in and of itself, and his hand quickly went to the back of Maedhros' head after a moment, forcing him inevitably, slowly, down on his full length. 

Maedhros made a soft choking sound after a moment, but Caranthir didn't want to let him back up. Maedhros' throat was warm and wet and tight, everything he'd ever wanted. He wanted to fuck it so hard he'd leave bruises, wanted to use Maedhros' mouth until he came close to passing out from it. 

It wasn't long before Maedhros shuddered a little and surrendered to him, relaxing into Caranthir's hold. Caranthir took pity on him then and began to move, slowly at first, in and out, letting Maedhros catch a little breath before plunging back down into his throat. From time to time Maedhros swallowed around him, going so tight that there was nothing to compare it with - no arse he'd ever fucked or woman he'd ever been inside of was like this. His oldest brother had a mouth even the Valar couldn't fathom or fashion, and he knew how to use it. 

Caranthir's grip on his own cock was steel-hard now, sliding slickly up and down himself. His eyes were closed, lost in the way Maedhros licked him when he drew back a little, and the hot channel of his throat moving around him, clasping him so tight he could hardly thrust. 

He breathed Maedhros' name, daring to whisper it to the empty house. His face felt like it was on fire, and he was so close to coming he could taste it. If Maedhros were really in front of him now, doing all those wickedly clever things with his mouth, how would he finish? 

He was Caranthir, and there was only one way he wanted it. He shoved back into Maedhros' mouth, pushing his head down without mercy, until he couldn't breathe, until he was choking on Caranthir's cock, seconds away from gagging on it. 

Caranthir's seed erupted in a hot flood, flowing over his still-working hand in jets and gushes. He drew it out to the end, until the last white spurt of his come emerged. Then he brought his hand to his mouth, imagining Maedhros on his knees, white traces of come on his lips, flowing over his chin, dripping down onto his chest, too much for his mouth to contain it all. 

"Maitimo," he whispered one final time, falling back into the chair, hands limp. The darkness just outside the circle of his lamp was only darkness, now, and the one he wanted was far away, flirting with everyone in the entire world except for him. 

The desire - the longing - the need - the desperation - was his alone to bear and would always be. Caranthir lay slumped in the chair for a few moments more, then stood on shaky legs, removed his robe, wiping his hands on it, and threw it vaguely in the direction of his laundry basket as he made his way over to his lonely bed.


End file.
